


Companions React to a Small, Quiet Sole Survivor

by tea_petty



Series: Collection of Companions' Reactions [29]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-19 05:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19968538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_petty/pseuds/tea_petty
Summary: Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty





	Companions React to a Small, Quiet Sole Survivor

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Hancock wasn’t one to panic. He wasn’t a panic-button presser, or a ‘sky-is-falling’ sort of guy. But then again, Sole wasn’t either. Sole wasn’t one to raise the red flags or let the alarms sound. And so, Hancock supposed that one of them should be, especially on a day like today, when Sole had gone from their quiet, contented self, to a quivering knot of pain in the span of a couple of hours.

Wrinkled face creased further with worry, the ghoul had knelt over their lover, taking advantage of the few moments of privacy they’d have as Fahrenheit ran to fetch Dr. Amari, to inch Sole’s shirt up, and palpate their abdomen. 

His fingers pressed gently, briefly, barely touching, before Sole let out a terse whimper of pain, and recoiled sharply away. He’d only felt them for the briefest of moments, but he’d touched Sole enough times to know that their abdomen felt…tense. Stiff almost, like someone had opened them up, and poured concrete in their belly. 

Hancock studied where he’d touched intently. Sole’s smooth skin looked peaceful; like the same flesh he’d ran his fingers over earlier that morning, in the midst of sleepy cuddles, and good morning touches. The same skin that’d made Sole cringe away in ticklishness, rather than pain. It alluded to nothing of the storm raging beneath, save for the heat that suffused it like a space heater.

And yet, something did look off.

Hancock watched Sole a bit more. His partner was small, shorter than he was even, fine-boned, like a bird. But their abdomen looked strange now that Hancock had taken the time to double take. Puffed out, if not slightly engorged. Sole was still small of course, but somewhat wider around the middle than what was normal for them. 

Hancock bit his tongue, as if it were the answer to pushing through his muddled confusion. He was no doctor…

Sole whimpered again, as another sharp pang radiated through them. Sole writhed, folding more into themselves with a strange, jerked motion, as if someone had kicked them in the stomach. 

Had someone? There had been no bruising that Hancock had seen.

Hancock wracked his brain for answers he didn’t have, and when he turned up nothing, he wracked it again for good measure. His attention could only be seized by the door swinging abruptly open, and the two white labcoats that bustled in. 

Dr. Amari had come in good haste, and luckily – if Hancock dared to use such a word over Sole’s sweating, contorting frame – so had Curie. 

Curie knelt down by Sole, and Hancock scooted away to give the doctors space to work. He watched as Amari scrutinized Sole from a few feet away, her hand cupping her chin thoughtfully. Curie meanwhile cooed soft comforts and smoothed a hand across Sole’s forehead. 

“Zhey’re feverish,” Curie murmured.

Hancock perched on his knees, too anxious to relax onto his heels.

Curie’s gaze caught the bunched hem of Sole’s shirt, where Hancock had lifted it just a few moments before. Repeating the motion, she continued to palpate the abdomen, like Hancock had also thought to do, albeit with wiser fingers.

“Abdomen eez rigid.”

Dr. Amari nodded, unfazed by this information. Hancock waited a few more moments, and then found he couldn’t wait any longer.

“So doc, you have any idea as to what this might be?”

Dr. Amari met Hancock’s withered, brown gaze, her eyes serious, but not somber.

“I want to see what Curie thinks, but if I’m correct, it’s appendicitis.”

Both Hancock and Amari looked to Curie, who nodded.

“ _Oui_ , I concur. Appendicitis.”

Hancock nodded agitatedly.

“Yeah, alright, wanna fill me in on what that means?”

“Their appendix is inflamed,” Amari answered, “it needs to come out.”

Hancock swallowed so that his voice would be steady when he tried to use it again. The natural rasp he had disguised his trepidation anyways.

“Isn’t that inside of them though?”

“They can live without their appendix,” Amari reassured, “the hard part will be…taking it out…”

“What do you mean? You gotta go digging around inside ‘em?” Hancock demanded, the edge in his voice a giant, fluorescent sign for the fear that struck deep into his marrow.

“Not digging, no,” Curie spoke up now, “we know where eet eez, but zhe problem remains…”

Curie and Amari exchanged looks.

“Well?” Hancock asked, impatiently.

“The resources are limited for…such a procedure, simple as eet may be,” Curie said, “eet will not be a… _pleasant_ experience.”

A low groan reverberated from the crumpled body below them, reminding them of its presence.

“Hey sweetheart,” Hancock murmured, resting his hand on their shoulder – the only safe place he ventured, on their body as of current, “it’ll be okay.”

“…hurts…” Sole whimpered, eyes pinched shut as clammy beads of sweat sprung from their skin.

By now, Curie was rummaging through her bag. Hancock cooed soothingly, trailing gentle paths of heat at their shoulder and down their arm until Curie procured several vials of Med-X. When she jabbed the needle points into Sole’s forearm, Hancock had grasped their hand tightly, trying to smother out the pain with the warmth of his own body.

He felt Sole tense in his hold.

“ _Hurts_!” they crooned again.

Then a few minutes passed, and the tension Sole held in their hands as they grasped onto Hancock trembled into an eerie peace. Their hold dropped from him.

The ghoul knew it was just the effects of sedation, but he stifled the fresh wave of panic that welled in him anyways. 

“You’re doin’ great sweetheart,” he murmured, peeling a sweat-slick strand of hair from Sole’s forehead, and tucking it back, “we’ve got you.” 

Hancock squeezed Sole’s hand, as if begging for a reply, though he knew they were probably already too far out of it to pay attention to such things. Such tranquil, heavy quiet followed in the next few minutes, that Hancock was shocked when Sole stirred again.

His gaze flicked to Curie and Dr. Amari, who were brandishing their glinting surgical tools from their medical bags like knives. Well, they _were_ knives, some of them anyways. 

“J-John…” Sole mumbled through fatigue-stiff lips, their eyes remaining firmly shut, “can we…?”

Their voice trailed off and the resounding exhale was so final, that Hancock knew Curie and Amari would be making final preparations for the upcoming operation. He steeled himself; they had said it wouldn’t be pleasant. 

The dosage of Med-X Sole was on was certainly enough to knock them out, but to keep them that way under the care of such instruments? Hancock looked to the tools laid out, glinting ominously as they caught light from the fixtures. He had no head for science, but his instincts warned him to prepare for the worse.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he murmured to Sole’s unconscious form, rubbing their hand between his as if he could make them more comfortable now to cancel out some of the pain they’d experience soon, “whatever you want.”


End file.
